(Casual D&D II) The Fellowship of the White Dove

Nurthk sits back down where he was resting before.

Sparky said:

"You two are good to have around. Even if you are ugly."

Click to expand...

Nurthk chuckles quietly.

"I'm probably too big to go forcing myself through crevices, I'm tired and still injured. I'll be here, avoid revealing our presence, okay?" he says, and closes his eyes to get a little more rest.

Satisfied that no magic is involved (at least no illusion of smoke scents, anyways...), Niccolo once more takes a seat just inside the opening.

After a minute, the Gnome laughs a bit and says 'Why, this cave reminds me of the time that I was a guest in an Orc Hold. Well, not a Guest per se, though I'm sure that to an Orc, the accomadations were grand. I'm not sure how a half-orc would view the place, Nurthk, you might give me a discertation of proper Orcish hospitality some time. Anyways, there I was, with thirty annoyed Orcs having the quite erroneous idea that I had been Spying on them for a nearby Elven Thorpe, if you can believe that. Spying? Perhaps, I ahd been doing a bit of scouting, but spying? Anyways, I had been caught, I mean...they had escorted me into their lovely cave complex, spears at my back, mind Ye, with the intention of feeding me to their pet Dire Weasel, not knowing that we Gnomes have quite a friendly relation with Mustalids of all sorts, be they Giant or not. SO I says to this Weasel Good day, my fine fellow. Might you like to get out of this place, what with the spiked collar and all, the poor diet and the smell. The Weasel was quite anxious to get away, for truth be known, Orcs don't treat their pets any better than they keep house, no offense Nurthk...'
Niccolo goes on, once again off on one of his stories, though at least this one had an interesting bit where he rode a Giant Weasel up and out of an Orc Stronghold. It could have been worse, this one could have been another discourse on the nature of Aeolian verses Phrygian Modes in relation to composition...

Facing away from the former gladiator, Fendric's lips purse together in a twisted grin as he hears Oliver's admonishment. (Yes, Mother...

Turning his head to Hiritus, he rolls his eyes and whispers, "Come, we'll leave the exploration until after dawn prayer. Until then, we can help keep watch, and try to stay warm."

Fendric busies himself with washing up as best he can with the few patches of snow that are around, and then putting on armor, anyway.

Nurthk smiles at Niccolo's story.

"No offense taken my small friend. There are different kinds of orcs as there are different kinds of humans. It was too cold where we were to keep giant weasels around," he says, with a chuckle.

The rest of the night passes without incident. By morning the scent is gone; Shavah retires to prayer, while Hiritus takes the time to climb up a bit to peer over the trees, and calls the rest up to take in the view: From this vantage, the fog stretches like an ocean, concealing the land below.

Seeing that the others seem to have opted not to quench their curiosity Orbril hesitates "so - wha -we-oh" he says rather incoherently and sits back a studies the markings on the wall a bit longer.

However as Niccolo story wears on and on he is forced to check his will to save his own sanity and quietly slips into the hole still curious to see where it leads and where the smoke originates...

(ooc eeew solo adventure!)

Nurthk rises and follows Hiritus, enjoying the nostalgic view of the ocean of clouds.

"Reminds me of home," he says.

(Backtrack: )

Orbril: You sneak through the crevice... It winds for a while, coming to a few dead ends, not seeming to arrive at much. As you turn what seems like it must be the last corner, you find yourself staring into a larger opening -- your first sight is a pile of jawbones, beyond which lie other sets of bones, neatly arranged in little piles throught the room. It appears they were removed in parts -- whole arms are mostly in tact, and many ribcages are still attached to spines, amongst those vertabrae which have come unstuck with time, and accumulated into rolling mounds of their own. In the back, however, there are odd bones which are note readily identifiable at first; on recognition of eye sockets, however, you realize they are skulls that have been split into three parts along the fissures, with each part being placed in its own pile among the like.

Around each pile are inscribed further etchings -- indeed, it appears the insignias continue on underneath the bones fragments -- which, while less damaged by time, are still beyond any recognizable meaning.

The cave does not appear to continue beyond this "room", save for a few small cracks barely large enough for a finger to sneak through. The ceiling here is barely standing height for a gnome, and there is little space which is not occupied by old bone.

(See attached file for a better idea of the arrangement.)

Orbril gulps deep when he realises that he has stumbled on a tomb, or maybe worse!
The ritualistic manner in which the bones have been seperated send a shiver along his spine, he makes a sign for protection and though he considers taking a peice of bone for further investigation the gnome decides against it.

He quickly and silently moves back out of the room heading out towards the cave entrance. He is shaken by the experience and silent as he goes towards the relative comfort of the living....